


The Grace's Host

by VesselOfLucifer (FayTheGay)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Powers, Dean Winchester Has Trust Issues, Gen, Guilt, Guilty Sam Winchester, Post-Season/Series 13, References to Sastiel, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Suspicious Dean Winchester, True Vessels (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayTheGay/pseuds/VesselOfLucifer
Summary: SPNKinkMeme General prompt fill!Prompt: In 13x23 Lucifer dies, but his powers don't and they need a new host. So they choose the nearest compatible person: Sam (because he's Lucis true vessel).At first, no one knows it, but then things start happening and eventually they figure it out.





	1. The Grace's Host

**Author's Note:**

> Late night drabble fill for [this fill on the kink meme](https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/149114.html?thread=46524282#t46524282). I usually don’t go places for prompts but since it’s Camp Nano and I needed words I decided to take a peek and this one really stuck out at me.
> 
> I admit. I got a bit carried away at the end but I had fun with it anyways.

At first, he didn’t notice. And didn’t that say a whole lot about the entire situation?

It started off simple enough. Lucifer was dead and Dean had been able to cast Michael out. No one had seen him but the silence had been a good sign. At least, that was what they let themselves believe. Maybe he’d gone back to his home world. Who knew?

The point was that they hadn’t seen anything. Heard anything. So, they’d done all they could do. They’d started to hunt again.

“Are you going to eat that?” Dean asked while Sam flipped through his lorebook. He didn’t even look away when he pushed the plate of fries across the table to his brother.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” He was. He felt better than he had in years. After Lucifer died it was like something changed for him. He felt lighter, the constant aches and pains from years of hunting were all but gone. His mind felt clearer than it had since the wall came tumbling down.

“When was the last time you ate, man?”

Sam frowned at his brother, lifting his gaze from the book. “Since when do you watch my diet?”

“I’m just sayin’. You hardly touched your rabbit food.” Dean nodded towards the mostly untouched salad and he shrugged.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Whatever. You pass out because your blood sugar’s all screwed, I tried to warn you.”

It was a month later when he saw Cas.

And yeah, he’d realized something was wrong but hadn’t had the nerve to admit it to Dean. He was eating now- but not because he needed to. It was because he knew he wanted to make sure to keep up appearances.

The second red flag had been when he realized he no longer had needed to spend hours translating. Every single book in the Men of Letters library was open to him. He could read the words and understand their meanings. Every word on every page coming to him like he was fluent in the words.

And when he saw Cas? That was the final straw on top of a mountain of weirdness.

Well, he couldn’t quite hide his reaction. He had only seen the angel once since Lucifer’s death. He’d been training Jack. Helping him cope with his powers. The last time had been nothing like what he saw now.

Before, he’d seen Cas. The Vessel he possessed, the body that had once been Jimmy Novak’s. Dark hair, blue eyes. That was Cas. The familiar version of him.

This, though. If he was honest, he’d been completely jarred by it. If Dean hadn’t approached him with that familiar approach he reserved for family, Sam might have shot him.

Because he didn’t see Cas. Not quite. Instead he saw a glowing mass of energy contained in a shell too small for it to ever possibly truly fit completely. He saw light and energy dancing just below skin. Wings large and broad and almost flaming in their brilliance. Every motion was followed with the rushing of water that flooded his senses, overwhelming in all of the worst ways. Then he was looked at and he saw eyes. Hundreds of small little orbs of deep gold that seemed to appear from nothingness in the brilliant form. A wing moved, arching and aggressive. A threat maybe and he wanted to stand still but he couldn’t stop himself.

Because he knew what he was seeing. It wasn’t the first time he had ever been exposed to the impossible nature of a divine entity. Once upon a time he had seen Michael and Lucifer both exposed down to their cores in the maw of The Cage. That was there. In the depths of the pit where there was no container. No directional force, just an eternity of falling and pain. Here, it was something else.

It was comfort and danger in the same moment because Castiel was moving towards him, hand wrapped around a shimmering metal that ended up lodged into his throat, wings spread impossibly wide while Dean stood idly by and said nothing.

 _He knows_. Some part of his mind was giddy with that knowledge but fear instincts were stronger. They had him throwing his hand outwards and pushing violently at that impossible form, sending the angel flying back into the wall furthest away from them.

He shuddered as it poured out of him. As the strange foreign yet hauntingly familiar presence in his body finally made itself fully known. What he had tried so very hard to ignore making him aware all too quickly of what he was containing.

 _Who_ he was containing.

But that laughter never came and he was left to his own devices as Dean and Castiel both held angel blades at him.

“Sam.” Dean was almost desperate in the word. Like it was Stull again and he was trying to drag his little brother out of the maws of the Devil. But Lucifer was dead and he wasn’t being possessed.

Was he?

He didn’t move, trying to get his bearings. Trying to comprehend just what he was feeling now.

“Sam.” Castiel’s voice was comfort where Dean’s was ice at the moment. Cautious. Castiel was talking to _him_. Not Lucifer.

Because Lucifer was dead. Dean had killed him.

 _What is this_?

“It’s just me-“ he shut his mouth. Familiar words flowed off his tongue but the language was wrong. He wasn’t speaking English.

“Enochian.” Dean spoke up. “What the hell, Cas?”

“That is your brother.”

“Yeah, it’s my brother. He’s-“

“No.” Castiel interrupted, lowering his weapon. “That is your brother.” Castiel reiterated the second time like it would clear anything up at all. Like any of what was happening was making sense. “Sam, you need to calm down.”

He was calm, wasn’t he? Or was he floating. Maybe he wasn’t calm.

Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to center himself. Tried to ignore that strange foreign feeling around the sides of his mind. The insistent tapping of something foreign. He had handled powers before.

He could do this.

“That’s not possible. Cas, he… I told you.”

His eyes opened again and Cas was normal. No longer impossible shining energy but the familiar body he knew. If he peered too close, the glow began to make itself known. Started to push against the illusion that he was seeing what he knew.

“I know what you think you see,” Castiel was approaching him cautiously and Sam allowed it, hoping that the angel could explain what had happened. That they might understand what was wrong with him. “But there is more to it. Lucifer is dead, Dean.”

“It feels like him.” And that was the horror of it all. The strange foreign essence beneath his skin wasn’t him. It _felt_ like Lucifer, yes. Now that he had seen Castiel, it was hard not to recognize the feeling of the Devil beneath his skin. Except it wasn’t Lucifer. Because Lucifer was ice and pain and anger. Not this strange euphoria that seemed to rush over him when Castiel touched his shoulder. The lingering movement of wings against his shoulders. Like Castiel was touching him with more than he was allowing himself to see.

He was afraid what it all meant.

“You were there when he died.”

“Yes.” But Cas knew that. Cas knew all the details because they had _told_ him. It was never a question, just a statement.

“What’s wrong with him, Cas?”

“It would appear that Lucifer’s Grace latched onto Sam in his death- and _no_. It is not Lucifer.”

Just his Grace. Hanging out around his soul like it belonged there. If he could, Sam was sure he’d have been sick. As it was, he felt pale. Fearful. What did that mean for him? Was he housing Lucifer’s consciousness, the Devil waiting to use him again?

_No._

“I can’t be sure- I’ve never seen this before.” Cas didn’t let him go and he used that as an anchor. If Cas didn’t pull away, then it couldn’t mean he was housing the maw of the beast. Or the angel was waiting to finish the conversation before stabbing him, ending him before there was a threat to be worried about.

“What does it mean?” Sam managed, gaze flicking to the eyes of the angel. Finally meeting that gaze properly since the first moment he stepped in the door. No judgement. No anger or fear. Just concern. Friendship. Ally. Comrade.

“I don’t know. But we will figure it out. I’m going to release you now.” And Sam wondered if the angel was in his head. Never in the time he had known him had Cas made a point of addressing what he was doing before he did it. Not in that way. Yet, there he was. Warning him before he took the hand off his shoulder.

When Castiel released him, he looked over at his brother again. The older man watching him with a familiar wariness, though not fear this time. There was no fear. How much had changed that Sam’s ability to exhibit powers was a casual experience? That Dean might’ve been taking it in stride.

“It might be due to your nature as Lucifer’s True Vessel.” Castiel continued, brushing his hands off on his coat in a not-casual-casual gesture. “I heard rumors when I was younger that the Archangels have… almost sentient Grace.”

Something else was there. An unspoken sentence that Sam wanted to hear but he suspected was left unspoken for the sake of Dean’s presence.

“You think the Men of Letters might have something on it?” Dean asked, like he actually thought they might. Like they hadn’t dug through every inch of lore on Archangels since they found the Bunker. But it was a start and since Dean wasn’t shooting anyone or getting a drink he wanted to call it a win.

“Maybe, yeah. We can definitely look.”

Of course, that was the day that Dean actually insisted on being involved in the research. It wasn’t until late into the night when the straggler hunters that had found their way there and Dean finally went to bed -Sam hadn’t slept in a couple weeks- that Sam was finally able to get a moment alone with the angel. Cas was quiet, looking at one of the books in the library though very clearly not reading it.

“Cas.”

“You won’t like the answer to my question, Sam.”

“I don’t care.” The light was bleeding through again and it was giving him the first headache he’d had since Lucifer’s death. He pushed back the chair to Cas’ right, dropping down in it and waiting until the angel met his gaze.

“Archangels and their True Vessels are meant to have close bonds. While Lucifer very gleefully exploited it, there is supposed to be resonance between his light and your soul. His Grace wouldn’t have recognized the damage that followed. Just the viable resonance.”

“So, you’re saying because I was destined to be Lucifer’s meatsuit, his Grace jumped onboard when I died.”

“I’m saying because… you enjoyed some aspects of your initial possession that his Grace was able to latch on.”

“I didn’t _enjoy_ being possessed by Lucifer.”

Cas didn’t look like he bought it and Sam hated how clear his memories were now. Because that wasn’t completely true and they both knew it. On some level, he _had_ enjoyed it. He hated Lucifer. He always would. But the power had been exhilarating and he had just been handed all of it. Without the constraint of having the literal Devil being there.

“Your addiction is power. The demon blood was a conduit for that addiction. It was why you were able to resist the demon blood that Famine offered you during the Apocalypse. This isn’t a bad thing, Sam.”

“Then why do I feel like I have poison on my soul?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

Guilt. Shame. Fear.

“I can help you learn to control the powers I recognize. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“I want it out. Cas, I can’t do this. I can’t be a-”

 _“Monster_. _”_ The word came with Dean’s voice. A long forgotten memory. “ _You’re a monster, Sam.”_

“-freak again.” The nicer word. The one with less connotations.

“I can try. But, I want you to consider it first. Think about what good you might be able to do with Lucifer’s powers.”

He didn’t want time to think about it because he didn’t want to have time to consider it. To fathom keeping Lucifer’s powers in him for a second longer. But he conceded, because what else could he do? Cut it out himself?

Maybe Cas was right.

“Alright. I’m going to shower. I’ll be back in a while.” When he got to his feet he could feel Cas’ gaze on him, watching him go in complete silence.

Maybe he could keep them for a while. Use them to help Jack.

Some good could possibly come from this. In theory.


	2. The Grace's Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to follow this up with something. Not super big but I figured I’d throw something together anyways. It was pretty weird to do but hey, it is what it is.

Dean liked to think he was an observant man. He’d been hunting since he was younger than he’d ever admit, parenting his brother since he was four years old, protecting him like big brothers did.

So, when he saw something was wrong, he was willing to trust his gut.

And when it involved Sam, he tried really hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all this time, he _owed_ his brother the benefit of the doubt.

So, when he’d noticed his brother stopped eating, he’d tried to ignore it. Maybe he’d been eating on his own. If something was wrong, Sam would’ve told him.

The big red flag had been when he realized his brother hadn’t been sleeping. When he had woken up in the middle of the night on four distinct occasions to find his brother awake in the library reading some of the old books.

No translation notes in sight.

So, he’d given in and called Cas. Because he was worried. Last time Sam had stopped sleeping, he had been missing a soul and while he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, he was worried. Really worried.

Then Cas went and told them it was fine. That it was just Lucifer’s Grace. Because _that_ was supposed to make them feel better. But he let it go because as long as it wasn’t _Lucifer_. As long as the damned devil was _gone_.

He would take their victories where he could get them. After all, they still had Michael to deal with. So, he played it off like he was okay with it. Like he wasn’t worried about what Lucifer’s Grace creeping around in his brother might mean for them.

He tried to take it in stride.

That stride lasted up until he realized Sam was disappearing at night.

With Cas.

It was enough to worry him, make him call their mom and give her the quick rundown on what was happening. Because he couldn’t call Cas this time around and Sam was walking around with Lucifer’s Grace dancing under his skin. If God had bothered to stick around, He was the only one that knew what that might mean.

As it was, they needed to improvise. So, when their mom ended up back at the Bunker, Sam was surprised to see her. Because Dean hadn’t told him she was coming back.

And Jack?

Jack had been unable to look away from Sam, eyes wide and confused. Because he wasn’t completely human. Just mostly.

“You are-”

“-not Lucifer.” Cas was there then and Dean was unable to stop the wave of irritation that clawed its way into his gut because they were up to _something_.

“I didn’t know you were coming back.” Sam spoke up, uncomfortable. Shooting Dean an annoyed look. One of those looks that said “I know you called her” but he didn’t really care because he was rightfully worried.

“Why?” Jack asked, turning his focus on Cas. A frown creasing his face.

“When Lucifer died, his power attached itself to Sam.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t know how to explain it.”

“Perhaps we should sit down.”

“No, Cas.” Dean spoke up, looking between his brother and the angel. “We’re not sitting down. We’re settling this.”

“Settling _what_ , Dean?” Sam glared at him, “What the hell do you think is going on that you felt the need to sneak behind me to call _mom_?”

“Oh, I don’t _know_ , Sam. You aren’t telling me jack squat. What I _do_ know is you and Cas have been disappearing at night.”

“I-“ Sam groaned, rubbing his temples. “You want to know why?” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Short of Cas who arrived a moment later in a flutter of wings, they all appeared in the lounge. Sam standing in front of the TV, him, Jack, and Mom on the couch. Cas standing a few feet away looking more annoyed than he had in a long time. “I swear to God if you bring up Ruby, Dean. I _will_ punch you. Cas has been helping me learn to control these damned _powers_. Because we can’t just pretend they don’t exist and expect it to get better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly? Because I knew you’d freak if you knew. Just like I knew you’d freak when it all started.”

“Sam- I _wouldn’t_ have freaked.”

“Really? Wouldn’t have freaked? Like you _didn’t_ freak out when I didn’t tell you? You couldn’t just _ask_ me?”

Dean shut his eyes. Because Sam was _right._ He should’ve asked. But he’d jumped to the worst conclusion.

“Why can’t you remove them?” Mary asked for the first time and Sam said nothing, Cas stepping forward a bit.

“We think we can but we want to try to help Jack first.”

“Wait, you can get _rid_ of them?”

“ _Maybe_.” Cas emphasized. Irritable. Dean hadn’t seen the angel this frustrated in a long time.

“It is worth the risk?” Jack asked, frowning. Hope hidden under mistrust.

“There isn’t a risk.” Sam interjected before Dean could get out his _no_. “I’m not drinking demon blood and Lucifer _isn’t_ involved. This isn’t _that_. This is me trying to do the _right_ thing and not helping Jack? That’s not the right thing. I know in my _gut_ that it’s the wrong thing.”

“Alright.” Dean couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. Everything about letting Sam use Lucifer’s powers screamed _wrong_. But he _needed_ to trust his brother.

He had to.

“Sam-“

“I know what I’m doing, Mom.” Dean flinched internally. Mind drifting to a time in their childhood where that word had been whispered at him. A bratty nine year old who had teasingly called Dean his mom. “Dean.”

“Yeah, well. I’m watching you. This goes south, I’ll shove you in the dungeon and we’ll drag that grace out kicking and screaming.”

“That isn’t-“

“I know what I’m doing, Dean.”

_I’ve heard that before._

.-~*~-.

Sam wasn’t sure how to explain to Dean that he was King of Hell. It wasn’t really anything he’d planned, him and Cas had gone down to Hell and the demons had fallen into line except the select few.

This was a good thing, though. No more demon deals with the good. No exploitation of desperation. Murder of children.

“No meatsuits under twenties. No possessing _good people._ ”

Hell wasn’t happy but the moment he’d made his declarations, they’d followed the orders.

Because he was _Sam Winchester._

Because he had _Lucifer's_ power.

No one said a word and the demon problems on Earth mostly vanished.

Dean said nothing because it was a positive thing but Sam could feel his eyes on him. Like his brother was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sam honestly was too.

Playing with these powers was like playing with a nuke. One wrong move and he could very well wipe out half the population. They practiced in Hell now. Training the limits in a dimension where they didn’t really care if they broke something, hurt someone. Even Lucifer hadn’t been strong enough to damage The Cage and the rest of Hell was just that. _Hell._

Sam had figured out the bare basics. The difference between his own freshly reawakened demon blood powers and the endless oblivion that was Lucifer's. Cas wasn’t the greatest teacher, but he tried his hardest. The problem simply was that Cas was an angel and Sam was a human. They didn’t use their powers the same way.

A couple near-misses that slaughtered a few groups of demons later and Sam was sure he could recognize the difference between Lucifer’s Grace and everything else around it.

The parts that didn’t belong.

Not that that mattered too much. Because like all of their life, it never got any easier. Michael broke his long stretch of silence in the form of a mass slaughter in Las Vegas. ‘A major gas explosion' as labeled by the news but Sam and Dean had easily recognized the glowing white light and the arcing wings.

Dean hated hunts that brought them to Vegas. Typically, it was a no-fly zone for them. They did _not_ hunt in Vegas. Anyone else could deal with it. It wasn’t their problem.

Vegas was their vacation spot. Their week away from hunting every single year. Now they had to go see what Michael wanted because there was no way that brazen display wasn’t a “come look at me” beacon for them.

Like Michael didn’t know where the Bunker was. How to access it.

“You think you can handle him?” Dean asked, eyes on the road. Voice tight and worried.

“I honestly don’t have a clue.” Michael had indirectly killed Lucifer. Dean heading the wheel, but they’d taken him on and won. Michael had also killed his own Lucifer. Nuked half their planet in the crossfire. Sam was still at the starting line with his powers. He understood some of it. Probably not enough.

“Cas said he thinks this will work for me.” He held up Raphael’s long forgotten Archangel blade. Taken when Cas won. Hidden away. Different from the odd golden one that Asmodeus had brought into their possession. Gabriel had told them it wasn’t his.

Not from their reality anyways.

He hadn’t had an answer to the question of where it came from.

“So you’ll just kill Michael.” Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Tell me something, Sam. Me and him took on Lucifer and won. He took on his Lucifer and _won_. Why do you think you can beat him?”

“I don’t.” Sam admitted, staring at the blade in his hand. “But it’s either I do this, or he keeps killing people.”

“Alright.” Dean responded, quiet and thoughtful. “Let’s do it then.”

.-~*~-.

It was funny how death worked. It wasn’t often he remembered his deaths, Dean knew. When he was resurrected, more often than not, he had memories of his death wiped away. Cleaned up.

But when he was dead, he remembered them all. Most of them happened during The Apocalypse. Some more recent than others.

Billie was waiting for him, watching Sam where he was leaning over Dean’s corpse.

“Billie-“

He was cut off by Michael who was standing in the middle of the street. She was a taller woman, long hair. Dark eyes. An amused look on her face. “You had to know why I called you here. Yet, you came anyways.”

“Why did you kill him?” Dean saw a flicker at his brother’s hand. A small crackling of Grace that almost looked like lightning.

“The more interesting question is why are you alive? What have you done to yourself?”

“It remembers.” Sam answered obscurely, rising to his full height. Staring Michael down from his side of the road. All the scene was missing was the sun in the middle of the sky. Shame they showed up to their death at sunset. “I can see the birth of the sun. Before the wars. Before the Darkness.”

 _I can see._ Dean knew. Cas had told him what Sam hadn’t told either of them.

Because the Grace was its own form of sentience. It was why it joined with Sam. Because it didn’t want to die.

And well… could he really blame the essence of one of the biggest evils they’d dealt with for what it’s owner had done?

It was like blaming his gun for what he’d done with it.

Dean didn’t blame Sam for not telling him. He knew damn well he wouldn’t have said a word if he was in a similar boat.

“It’s his Grace.” There was a strange look on Michael’s face. A startled confusion. Like he’d just been introduced to one of the most mind boggling pieces of information ever laid before him. “That’s not possible.”

“When Lucifer died. When you _killed_ him. When you _murdered_ your brother. What did you think would happen?”

His brother. But not. Yet, the words clearly struck a cord with Michael. The eldest Archangel shifting irritably. Sam lifted that Archangel blade, pulling it from thin air.

_“I want you to be informed, Dean. Sam asked me not to worry you but I want you to be made aware. We are training these powers. He has improved immensely.”_

_“I know, Cas. Just tell me something. He’s practicing in Hell, ain’t he?”_

_“Sam has become the King of Hell. I can tell you his orders. It is for the best.”_

_“Tell me everything, Cas.”_

Just like Azazel had wanted.

Or some variant of that lie.

“Did you think it was over? That you’d _won?_ Maybe your work didn’t have me and Dean but humanity is _resilient._ You don’t get to do whatever you want. Not without consequences.”

“I killed my brother.” Michael said, confidence rolling off of him in waves now. The disorientation gone. “What makes you think that some _ape_ wearing his Grace can do any better?”

“I can do better than Lucifer,” Sam said quietly. “Because I’m willing to use every _single_ asset at my disposal to win. Lucifer may have fucked me and my brother over time and time again. But he left me one _hell_ of a parting gift. _Veni_!”

Dean laughed. It was an odd sound that he couldn’t quite stop from escaping him and he realized his brother was looking at him the moment it happened. Just an annoyed brotherly roll of eyes accompanied with the sight of the ground ripping open. Demons pouring from cracks in the Earth in the middle of fucking _Las Vegas_.

Not a human in sight due to the supposed gas leak that was making humans that came in range very sick. Something he was much more familiar with as being smiting sickness.

Michael was overwhelmed. Hellhounds and demons alike tearing into the Archangel until he was forced to his knees. Sam standing inches in front of him, archangel blade in hand.

“Pride was Lucifer's fatal sin.”

“And what is yours?” Michael spat, not even flinching when the hellhound to his left snapped at his face. A warning bite.

_King of Hell._

“Greed. Lust. Hell is mine, Michael. Earth is _mine._ And now, _Heaven_ is mine as well. Any angel that has a problem with this can take it up with the _last_ Archangel.”

And that should have scared him. He knew damn well that it should have. But it didn’t because he already had suspected. Cas had let slip more than he’d meant to.

_“So, basically. Sam’s taken Lucifer's throne unchallenged.”_

_“Yes. With the power he possesses, unless he finds a way to return Jack’s powers, him and Michael are the two strongest creatures on Earth. Nothing short of an ancient being can stand against him.”_

_“And this is supposed to make me feel better?”_

_“Would you rather your brother sit on that throne? Or some rogue demon?”_

Sam said nothing when he drove his blade through Michael’s heart and Dean looked away when the glow became too much. Billie was in front of him now, arms crossed over her chest. Thoughtful.

“Your brother is going to try to bring you back.”

“You gonna let him?” Dean didn’t think she would. Not after everything they’d been through. The promises she’d made him. Maybe this was how he died.

Instead of answering, she smiled grimly. “I want to show you something,” She shifted, held out her hand where a pile of light sat. “This is what remains of Michael. Normally, I wouldn’t do this. The problem is that I don’t feel comfortable leaving your brother as sole ruler of both Heaven _and_ Hell. I could stop him, but it’s not my place to do so.”

“You want me to take Michael’s Grace. Become the weird freak hybrid that Sam is?”

“No.” Billie corrected him, “It wants you to take it. It can’t just join with you like what happened with Sam and Lucifer's. There isn’t enough familiarity.” Dean decided he really didn’t want to know what that meant. He would take ignorance.

“If I don’t?”

“Then your brother resurrects you and I reap Michael’s Grace as well. It is your decision, Dean.”

His decision. Except it really was more of a not-decision. Because as much as he hated to think it. Something he would _never_ say.

He didn’t trust his brother in that position of power. Not completely. No matter how much he wanted to. He needed to be able to help him. To work _with_ him. And Billie of all people was _suggesting_ it.

That had to mean something.

“Alright, I guess I’ll do it.” Dean eyed the little weird light energy. It reminded him of a slug, ‘torso’ arched so it could watch him. If it had any sort of limbs he could almost imagine it propped back on its hide legs like a begging puppy.

It was cute. If he didn’t think about the fact that it was _Michael’s_ Grace.

“You have to be certain, Dean.”

“I’m certain.” Dean flicked his gaze to Billie. “It’s just- well, how does this work?”

“I unfreeze time, your brother resurrects you, and when you come back this will meld with your soul. Try not to reject it. It is your nature to fight. You can’t fight it. If you do, then I will reap it.”

Right. Don’t fight. Easy. With a final nod to Billie, she stepped aside and he watched Sam approach his body, touching his neck. He had a moment of vertigo, unable to recognize up from down. He was staring at Sam looking at his body.

Then he was looking at his brother from those eyes.

And he felt it. A small shift of _something_ abnormal and Billie had been right.

Because he had almost fought it.

Until he remembered that this was how he helped his brother. This was how he made sure Sam and Cas didn’t forget themselves with all that power.

He let Michael’s Grace envelop him.

.-~*~-.

Castiel stood aside when Dean stepped into heaven’s throne room, radiating Grace that almost rivaled his brother’s. Almost.

Nothing could outshine the Morningstar.

“I’ve really gotta sit on it?”

“Your perception of Heaven simplifies what ruling Heaven means. The closest comparison you have of taking over has to be symbolized. When Sam overtook Hell, he did the same thing.”

And the demons had fought it. The angels weren’t fighting him, though. They’d fallen into line the second he entered Heaven.

All ten of them. Cas and Naomi included.

“Think it’ll be enough?” The angels needed more angels. Or more power or whatever with Heaven’s lights going out.

“We can only hope.” Cas confirmed and Dean grimaced a bit before turning and seating himself on the throne.

He felt the shift. Just slightly. He didn’t have the first idea how to use any of his powers yet and Sam was sure that if it was anything like him it’d be a month or two before anything major kicked in. But still, he felt it. A slight buzz. A faint vibration in the air that reminded him of right before a ghost tried to gut him alive.

The dimly lit corridor he’d come in from flared to life. Brightening impossibly until the gathered angels turned and scurried out. Leaving just him and Cas with Naomi.

“You’ve done it.”

“Where’s they take off to?”

“To do the job of a thousand angels. When Heaven started collapsing, the heavens started caving in on each other.”

“So now you’ve gotta drag their souls back to where they belong. Why? Heaven was all open and free reign when we died back in The Apocalypse.”

“After Michael was imprisoned… Raphael chose a new layout and it stayed.”

“You’re King of Heaven, Dean.” Sam prompted him, suddenly in the doorway with a small grin on his face. “Heaven’s whatever you say. Just tell them what to do.”

 _'or I can.’_ The unspoken words clearly sat there and Dean scowled at his brother, looking at Naomi.

“Go find me Ash then help the rest of the angels out- and know what? Since we’re short staffed and breaking all the boundaries of what I’d call normal, grab some demons from Hell and drag them up here to help.”

“But they’re… demons can’t enter Heaven.”

“I’m King of Heaven. If I say demons can come in, then demons can come in, right?”

“Technically, yes but…”

“Sammy, you’ve been secretly running Hell behind my back. Can’t tell me you don’t have a couple black eyed bitches down there you trust a bit.”

“Marcus and Maria.” Sam confirmed, “They’ll meet you at Hell’s Gate.”

Naomi made a displeased sound before disappearing.

“So, King of Heaven. Somehow suits you.” Not at all. It was one of those ridiculous things that no one ever thought they’d actually hear.

_The Boy King of Hell._

“Yeah, well couldn’t let you have all the power. What kinda example would I be setting for my little brother if he was ruling both afterlives?”

Sam laughed, shook his head and moved across the room.

“Yeah, I don’t really believe it either. It’s nuts, isn’t it?”

“This is probably the best possible outcome we could have had.” Cas spoke up and Dean turned his attention to the angel again.

“Cas, what I don’t get is why you pushed for this.”

“Is it not obvious?”

“Is _what_ not obvious?” Dean asked, Sam laughing and shaking his head.

“Cas didn’t push for this. I mean, yeah. He helped me zero in my powers. But he didn’t say a word about me taking Hell’s throne. Not Heaven. They were… my idea. Think about it, Dean. Demons ruling Hell screwed us. Angels ruling Heaven screwed us. I didn’t expect Billie to do _that_ to you but hey. It works. We can take care of the world together.”

 _Billie really wanted me here which means you’re probably not telling me something. Shocker since both of you have been keeping secrets for a while now. Do I trust you on that throne? Why can’t I just_ trust _you with this?_

“So, what? Now that Heaven and Hell are ours we can just head home?”

“You do not have to be in your domain to rule. Why do you think Crowley kept his throne on Earth?”

“What if the angels decide to rise up? Or the demons?”

“There aren’t enough angels for anyone to risk going to war with you.”

“Yeah, and the demons are scared shitless of us. Heaven and Hell aren’t threats anymore.”

Not threats. Was it really that easy?

Somehow, it was. Ten years later found him still ruling Heaven- but from Earth, Sam and Cas spending most their time in Hell which he didn’t like to think much on. (Dean had heard an angel named Malial call Cas Sam’s Queen and he hadn’t really ever asked. Whatever Sam and Cas were doing behind closed doors wasn’t his business).

His business was Heaven. Which was uncomfortable at times. The angels tended to look at him like he was God or something. Like he should have all of the answers.

Meanwhile, with the help of Ash’s insane navigational abilities, he was just barely keeping things under control.

But he was a King and Sam was a King but at the end of the day they came back to the Bunker and sat down to eat a now unneeded but still fairly enjoyable dinner.

Because no matter how weird things got, they were brothers. And despite all of his reservations, the Grace had done them nothing but good.


End file.
